Juliet had long accepted there would never be a third musketeer in their lives and that suited her fine. She didn’t need a man in her life. Apart from her father, the rest just brought grief. Even in a new country, a man she had not laid eyes upon, Dr Charlie Warren’s objection to her surgical option was another piece of proof that men caused unnecessary anguish.
And she didn’t need any more of that.
‘So you’re only here for a short visit, then?’
‘I’m consulting at Teddy’s for a few weeks. I agreed because it was a short term. I couldn’t keep my daughter away from her grandparents for too long. They’d miss her terribly.’
‘I can see why. She’s a proper little sweetie,’ the man added, clearly wanting to keep the conversation flowing.
Juliet guessed him to be in his mid-fifties. He looked a little like her father, quite distinguished, greying around his temples with a moustache and fine-rimmed gold glasses. Her father was a chatty man too, even in the operating theatre. Perhaps it was his age that made it easy for her to talk to this man. There was no hidden agenda. Just pleasant conversation.
‘Thank you. She’s my little angel and she’s a real sweetie.’
‘She’s got your curls and pretty eyes. I don’t think her father got much of a look-in there. My granddaughter’s just the same, spitting image of her mother.’
Juliet felt her stomach sink a little, the way it always did at the mention of Bea’s father. The man who had caused more anguish than she had ever thought possible. A man who didn’t want a look-in. He was the one time she had let down her guard and the reason she would never do it again. After the one romantic night they had shared, he had walked away and never looked back. Married the fiancée he had forgotten to mention to Juliet while he was seducing her. And as quickly as he had swept into her life, he was gone. Well before she had discovered she was having his baby. Two months after the night they spent together, Juliet had caught sight of his wedding photo complete with huge bridal party in the society pages of the local newspaper.
She had instantly felt overwhelmingly sad for his new wife.
Heaved twice with morning sickness.
And sworn off men.
For ever.
Juliet paid the driver and asked him to take her bags to the boutique hotel where she was staying for a few nights. The hospital had contracted the car service and, after their conversation, she felt she could trust him to take her belongings, including Beatrice’s pink fairy princess suitcase, and leave them with the hotel concierge. Being over fifty meant he fell in the trustworthy category. Men under forty had no hope in hell of being trusted with anything belonging to Juliet.
Not her suitcases…her medical decisions…or her heart.
With Juliet holding Bea’s gloved hand tightly, the two of them stepped inside the warmth of the main entrance of the hospital to hear the heart-warming sound of piped Christmas carols. Juliet slipped off her coat and laid it over her arm and then unbuttoned Bea’s as she watched her daughter’s eyes widen at the sight of their surroundings. Teddy’s, as the hospital was affectionately known, was certainly dressed in its Christmas best. Neither Juliet nor Bea had seen such a huge tree and certainly not one as magnificently decorated as the one that filled the glass atrium. It was overflowing with brightly coloured baubles, and tiny lights twinkled from behind the gold tinsel generously covering the branches. Their eyes both scanned around the foyer to see a Santa sleigh and carved wooden reindeers welcoming patrons to the hospital tea room and all the staff appeared as happy as both Juliet and Bea felt at that moment.
‘Ith very beautiful, Mummy.’
‘It is indeed.’
Taking hold again of her tiny daughter’s hand, Juliet approached the information desk and introduced herself and mentioned her appointment with the OBGYN with whom she would be working.
‘I’m sorry, Dr Turner, but Dr Warren hasn’t arrived yet. He was due an hour ago but, to be honest, I haven’t heard anything so I can’t be sure what time we’ll see him.’
Juliet’s expression didn’t mask her surprise. She had flown almost eight thousand miles and had arrived on time and Dr Charlie Warren, whom she assumed to be a resident of the Cotswolds and who therefore had a significantly shorter journey, was the one late for their meeting. She was not impressed and hoped he had a darned good explanation since she and Bea were each in need of a bath and some sleep and had gone without both to meet with him.
‘Is Oliver Darrington available, then?’
‘Mr Darrington’s on surgical roster today so, I’m sorry, he won’t be available until after four-thirty.’
Juliet was trying to think on her feet. And both her feet and her brain were tired. ‘Then while we’re waiting for Dr Warren perhaps I can take my daughter to the crèche.’
‘Of course, that’s on this floor but the other side of the building overlooking the visitor gardens,’ the young woman told her. ‘If you follow the corridor on your left to the end then turn right, you’ll see it.’ Then smiling, she added, ‘And hear it. It’s quite the noisy place with all the little ones.’
Juliet hesitated; she didn’t want to walk away with Bea and have Dr Warren arrive. She checked her mobile phone for messages. Perhaps Dr Warren had been delayed and sent the hospital a message that hadn’t reached Reception but had been relayed to her in a text. It seemed logical and it would give her an indication of how much time she had to settle Bea into the crèche, but after quickly finding her phone she discovered there was no such message.
‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Another unreliable man.’
‘Pardon, Mummy?’
Juliet looked down at the angelic face staring back at her. ‘Nothing, sweetie, Mummy was just mumbling. Everything’s just perfect.’
‘Okay,’ Bea replied as her eyes darted from one festive decoration to the next before she began pulling her mother back in the direction of the main doors.
Juliet knew everything in their lives was not perfect but she would make it as perfect as she could for her daughter. She would devote her life to ensuring that Bea never felt as if she was missing out on anything. Particularly not about the lack of a father in her life. Juliet often felt sad that, while she enjoyed a wonderful relationship with her own father, Bea would never experience that bond. Although, she conceded gratefully, while the special father-daughter relationship would never be a part of her daughter’s life, an unbreakable grandfather-granddaughter relationship had already formed. Juliet’s father and Bea were like two peas in a pod and seeing that closeness brought Juliet joy.
She was drawn back to the current situation, caused again by a man. Bea’s grip was tight and she was clearly on a mission as she tried to pull Juliet along. Juliet tugged back. ‘It’s so cold outside, darling. Let’s stay in here where it’s nice and warm.’
‘But, Mummy, it lookth like the top of my cake.’
‘What looks like the top of your cake, sweetie?’
‘Out there,’ the excited little girl replied as she pointed to the snow-covered ground. The branches of the trees and even the cars that had been parked for a few hours had been blanketed.
Juliet had to agree that it did look like Bea’s fourth birthday cake. Her grandmother had baked a triple-layer strawberry sponge cake with a generous covering of brilliant white icing and decorated with four different fairy tale princesses for her beloved granddaughter. But this was not a cake, it was their reality for the next few weeks, and, despite her reservations and her